A Weakness
by edmidt
Summary: Malik x Bakura. Non con Atemu x EVERYBODY takes place in ancient Egypt. Malik and Bakura plot to overthrow the Pharaoh.
1. Default Chapter

A Weakness  
  
Author: neolotus  
  
Series: Yu Gi Oh  
  
Rating: R  
  
Pairing: Marik x Bakura  
  
Warnings: Yaoi (yes that means male on male action. If you don't like it, you can shove it.), sex ...masochism...maybe bondage...we'll see feral grin, language, violence. Slight OOC. Angst. You know the drill.  
  
Author's Notes: I never meant for this to be more than one chapter. This was just supposed to be your typical, one chapter, plot-lacking lemon fic. But was I able to pull that off? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo. I had to go and develop this huge plot line! Dammit! Oh yes, and the Millennium items give them slightly different powers in the fic than in the series...  
  
The setting is in ancient Egypt, if you are too dull-witted to pick that up after the first paragraph.  
  
Enjoy 8D please comment or flame (both will be highly appreciated...though in two different ways) when you're done. Thanks!  
  
A Weakness  
  
Chapter 1  
  
A warm breeze swept over the infertile soil of Cairo as dusk settled over the city. The all-powerful Pharaoh, Atemu, slid beneath his silk sheets as a servant blew the candles out and shut the doors of his sleeping chambers. He snuggled down into his pillows and sighed contentedly. He was a little worn out from winning a monster duel, but other than that, there wasn't a worry on his mind. Sleep quickly claimed the King, as it did for the other Egyptians, wrapped up in fine fabrics inside their cozy, clay houses clustered around the palace. Incense smoke drifted down to the Hebrew village while they slumbered fitfully after a hard day of working for the Pharaoh. The camels hunkered down in the stables. Even the Nile seemed to be asleep. The sky turned from magenta, to purple, to an inky navy and the stars stood out like diamonds on velvet in the perfectly pure black night.  
  
The city of Cairo slept.  
  
But in the Valley of the Kings, a tomb guard was restless. Marik paced back and forth, up and down the passageway that opened up to the valley at one end and led to deeper chambers at the other.  
  
"His weakness...his weakness..." Marik hugged his robes around his 17- year-old body with one arm and stroked his chin with his free hand as he paced. "I need to find just one weakness...and I know I can take him down. But what is it? WHAT IS IT?" He pounded one fist into his open palm with pent-up frustration. "Duel monsters? That's the only thing I can think of...but I'd never beat him. Never in a thousand years...five-thousand....maybe." He sighed and slumped against the brick of a wall. Marik pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his fingers repeatedly through his palomino hair. "A weakness....a weakness..."  
  
The breeze picked up, winding itself inside the passageway and flirting with the light of the hanging torches. The lights threatened to go out and Marik stood, grumbling something about the graveyard shift and sauntered towards the opening of the passageway. He stepped out into the rapidly cooling night, sucking in the air and gazing up sourly at the stars, then out across the pyramids and sand dunes. He moved to pick up the makeshift[1] door of bound wooden slats but something caught his eye; A dark shadow flickered over a dune and he heard the very faint but very distinct sound of scampering sandals.  
  
"Who's there?" Marik barked authoritatively. No one answered and he drew his dagger from his belt and started sneaking around the side of the pyramid, in the direction he had heard the scampering. He was halfway around the pyramid when he heard sandals slapping against the hard floor of the entrance passageway, followed by the loud, triumphant and almost hysterical laughter of the intruder.  
  
Marik roared with frustration, quickly darted into a small, secret passageway that led from just below the pyramid to the burial chamber. He could intersect the intruder there.  
  
The intruder pounded down the passageways, panting but with a toothy, mirthless grin on his face. "Here ... Here ... It must be here ..." He ducked into a different passage, but was knocked to the ground with an elbow to the stomach.  
  
"You little fucking THEIF!" Marik spat at him, launching himself at the thief, pinning him to the floor.  
  
"AAUGH!" The thief cried out in rage, writhing underneath the tomb guard, hoping to strike at his assailant with one of his flailing limbs.  
  
"That's enough!" Marik's voice rang with power inside the narrow cavern. He held his dagger to the thief's throat.  
  
The intruder immediately stilled, feeling the bite of cold steel at his jugular and realizing he could not reach any of his own weapons with the guard's knees pinning his arms.  
  
Marik studied the thief. "Oh, Ra! You're just a boy!" He exclaimed, even though the thief looked about the same age as he was. He was stunningly beautiful, despite his dirty and ragged white tunic and brown pants. His long silver hair fanned out around his head like a halo and his sweaty bangs clung to his long eyelashes, framing his brown eyes. "What are you after? There aren't any treasures in here!" This thief must have been very naïve to not notice that the Pharaoh was not dead, therefore, there would be no burial treasures and offerings in the tomb.  
  
"The Rod..." The thief wheezed out (it was hard for him to breathe as one of Marik's knees was firmly planted on his chest). "I came for the Rod..."  
  
Marik feigned a lack of knowledge of the Millennium Rod. "What are you talking about, Thief?"  
  
"Bakura."  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name...is not Thief...it's Bakura."  
  
Marik stared at the thin boy, hesitating between calling Isis or Shadi for help or slicing the boy's throat right there. Marik didn't particularly like the idea of slicing his throat... it would be a horrible mess to clean up afterwards.  
  
Bakura sensed the guard's hesitation, and seizing the opportunity, he flipped Marik up and off of him and slammed him into a wall. He pulled a serrated knife from his belt, this time he had Marik's life in his hands. Marik struggled against him, opening his mouth to scream for Shadi.  
  
"Don't." Bakura hissed, pressing a hand over Marik's mouth. He put a little pressure on his blade, just enough to draw a thin line of blood ("MMMBBFF!!!) to Marik's tan skin. "Now show me where the Rod is."  
  
Marik's eyes widened and he nodded slightly.  
  
"Good." Bakura's eyes glinted victoriously. He loosened his hold on the tomb guard to allow him to reveal the hiding place of the treasure he sought. In swift, liquid motion, Marik knocked Bakura's arm holding the knife away from him with his elbow, dropped to a squatting position and spin-kicked Bakura's ankles.  
  
Bakura's knife clattered to the stone floor as he stumbled to his hands and knees. Marik prepared to pounce on him for a second time, but Bakura wasn't that slow.  
  
"Why, you little BITCH!" Marik growled as he and Bakura tumbled and scrabbled on the floor. Marik rolled on top of Bakura and squeezed his hands around Bakura's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" Surely this kid had to work for someone of high power, his logic told him, if he knew about a treasure that only he and his family were supposed to know about.  
  
Bakura bit down hard on Marik's shoulder. Marik suppressed a cry of pain and tightened his hold around the would-be tomb robber's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" He started pounding Bakura's shoulders and head into the cold floor. "Or I'll take you to the Pharaoh!"  
  
Bakura started laughing. Blood stained his teeth and more dripped onto his face and throat as it slid down Marik's shoulder. "I already...work...for him." Bakura panted out between his head hitting the floor.  
  
"What?" Marik cried incredulously. He stopped abusing the bi- shounen's silver head. The Pharaoh had hired a thief to rob his own tomb guards? He stared at the brown-eyed boy, grinning that silly, bloody smile and looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.  
  
"You are accusing the Pharaoh of being corrupt?" Marik sat back on his haunches. Bakura just laughed some more, licking blood up from around his mouth. Marik suddenly felt a slightly hard ... something ... prodding his thigh. His eyes widened and he quickly pulled his face into a cringe. He pulled Bakura up by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. "You're sick."  
  
Bakura just chuckled some more. He didn't seem ashamed at all... he seemed rather psychotic, Marik noted. Not that he should be accusing somebody else of being psychotic. Bakura didn't struggle, just leaned casually between Marik and the wall. "You taste...bitter. But I like it." He said hoarsely.  
  
"Stop that." Marik said in warning voice as Bakura dipped his head to lick the wound that he had inflicted upon the guard.  
  
"You know you like it..." Bakura hissed on his ear. Marik chose to ignore his comments, noticing that he had stopped struggling. He must be growing tired, he thought. If he could just find something to bind him with he could take him captive...  
  
Marik let out a small cry of surprise when he found himself suddenly in Bakura's former place – pinned.  
  
"What's your name?" Bakura inquired conversationally.  
  
"Why should I tell you, vermin?" Marik said hatefully, indigo eyes narrow.  
  
"Can you please just tell me?" Bakura whined playfully, still grinning.  
  
"No." Marik glared at him. He struggled against Bakura to no avail.  
  
"Tsk!" Bakura said, with one arm against Marik's neck, threatening to strangle him. "It's a pity I'll have to kill you. I've never met somebody who matched my strength before. And you have such pretty eyes, too...But that's what you get for standing in my way of a Millennium Item."  
  
"Match?! I'm positive my strength surpasses yours!" Even with the lack of oxygen to his brain, Marik still managed to be obnoxious.  
  
Bakura scoffed, raising his dagger. Marik shot an uppercut to Bakura's jaw. Bakura stumbled back and Marik jumped on him, bringing them both to floor. They rolled across the floor, until they slammed into a locked door of a chamber. Marik suddenly froze – he felt a strange tickling sensation on his forehead, as if someone was gently caressing his skin. The feeling deepened, as though his invader was stroking his brain. Alarmed, he looked down at Bakura, whose eyes were glazed over and his pupils dilated. He found that he could not move his body.  
  
"Just relax, Marik Ishtar." Bakura's voice came out monotonous.  
  
/How does he know my name?!/ Marik's inner voice panicked. /Is he reading my mind?!/  
  
Bakura let out a mocking, barking laugh, though not breaking from his trance. "Yes, yes I am. Does that make you uncomfortable?"  
  
/Fuck you./ How dare he invade his private thoughts! Marik's mind raced, trying to think of some way to break Bakura's trance that was rendering him immobile.  
  
Bakura grinned maniacally. He gripped Marik's shoulders and effortlessly moved him off him and into a sitting position. Bakura pushed deeper, past Marik's consciousness into his memories. He reached what he was looking for – Marik, as a small boy, a shadowed man holding the Millennium Rod in front of him...it began to glow and the room started to vibrate as the power of the Rod was called upon...the small boy screamed – Bakura pulled out of the depths of Marik's mind, though still keeping him in a paralysed state. A golden ring rose on its own accord from beneath Bakura's tunic, the dangling ornaments lifted to point towards the door Marik was propped against. "This is the room...It is so close!" Bakura's eyes flashed hungrily and Marik was somewhat aware of the soft shk of the lock coming undone. The door swung open and banged into the wall of the chamber. Completely forgetting Marik, Bakura rushed inside and threw himself over the alabaster chest on the floor of the chamber. He rubbed his cheek lovingly against the lid. "The Millennium Rod...it is finally MINE." He hastily threw the stone lid off the chest as if were made of paper. Bakura stared at the Rod, lying on purple silks, blood and saliva mingling on his chin – he had almost completely lost control in sheer ecstasy. He seized the Rod ("MINE!!") and strode proudly out of the chamber, only to be met with Marik. "Oh there you are, Marik, dear," Bakura waved the Rod non- chalantly. "I hate to bite and run, but I really must be getting this back to my Pharaoh."  
  
Simultaneously, Bakura aimed the Rod at Marik and shot an energy blast at him, while Marik lunged at him, thrusting his dagger deep into Bakura's abdomen.  
  
The last sound Marik heard was the sickeningly satisfying squelching of his blade sinking into Bakura's flesh, Bakura's choking...Marik was unconscious before his head hit the floor.  
  
[1] just wanted to point out that the door is 'makeshift' because the tomb is still under construction as the Pharaoh hasn't died yet.  
  
end of chapter  
  
A/N: don't worry, they're not dead the next chapter will be better...smut and such. Gods, I really enjoy having them kick the crap outta each other. PLEASE REVIEW! It would mean a lot to me. And if you do, please tell me if it was confusing or poorly worded or what have you...that would help me out a lot.  
  
Oh yes, the next chapter will be a bit shorter, methinks, but it should be coming out soon! 


	2. Chapter 2

A Weakness  
  
A/N: mmmkay before we begin the party, let me just say I make the Pharaoh (aka Yami Yugi but I call him Atemu) out to be rather mean =( I have nothing against him, but I needed an antagonist! So no flames for that please and thanks.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Marik woke with his head resting in a woman's lap. He looked blearily up at her. "I-Isis?" He croaked.  
  
"Oh thank the gods, you're awake." She smiled sympathetically at him. She dabbed the wound on his shoulder with a damp cloth. She dipped the cloth in a clay basin of water and wrung it out.  
  
"D-Dammit..." Marik rubbed his head with hand. "How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"About seven hours." Isis replied.  
  
He grabbed Isis' arm, "He didn't...He didn't get away, did he?"  
  
Isis looked away from his eyes. "Yes...He did." She uttered quietly.  
  
"No..." Marik shut his eyes, gripping his shoulder in a spasm of pain. "I'll get him, that bastard. And bring back the Rod, too." /I'll uphold my family's honour, even if it kills me./  
  
Isis shook her head. "No, Marik. The Pharaoh will surely kill you. And once he finds out what you did to his servant then he'll come after all of us."  
  
"How did you know he worked for the Pharaoh?" Marik raised his eyebrows at her.  
  
She just smiled and continued to clean his wounds. When she was done she placed the cloth in the basin, and stood, shifting Marik's head to the pillow. "As soon as you are strong enough, we will take our leave of Egypt. The Pharaoh's men will come to kill us any day now."  
  
"NO!" Marik sat up, his head reeling with pain. "You and Shadi can go ahead and run with your tails between your legs but I will stay and fight to the death!"  
  
"Marik, just lay down. You need to rest." She said calmly, though Marik could see the panic behind her eyes. She gently pushed him back down on the straw mattress and left the room.  
  
Marik hauled himself up to his feet. He grabbed for his tunic hanging on the back of the chair and ripped a strip from the hem. He wound the strip under his armpit and around his wounded shoulder and secured it with a knot. Then he pulled his tunic on with his good arm.  
  
He pressed his ear against the door of his chamber, listening for footsteps in the hall outside. He quickly gathered up what provisions he could find in his room – some stale bread, a flask of water, his cloak, his dagger and a short sword. He tied the weapons and flask to his belt and carried the rest outside. The family horse was tied in the shadow of the pyramid. He shoved his bread and cloak in the saddlebags and painfully swung abroad the horse's back. He spurred her to a trot, then canter, leaving the valley behind.  
  
It didn't take long for Marik to find Bakura's trail of blood. With the wound he had given Bakura, it wouldn't be very far until he came across the body. The sun sank lower in the sky as the deposits of blood in the sand grew thicker and he could make out places where Bakura had stumbled. About half a league away from the valley and another league to the palace, Marik looked ahead to a sand dune and saw dead Bakura lying there on his back. At first Marik thought he was waving to him, but then realized that it was just his cloak lifted by the wind.  
  
Marik pulled the horse up near the body and slid off her back. He spotted the Rod lying near Bakura and stooped to pick it up.  
  
"Pharaoh...My Pharaoh?" Bakura croaked, one hand reaching out unsteadily in Marik's general direction.  
  
"Huh?" Marik stared at Bakura in disbelief. Bakura coughed and blood ran in rivulets from the corners of his mouth. His abdomen was soaked with blood and the sand around him was clumped with the stuff. "You're not dead yet?!" Marik cried incredulously. "FUCK!"  
  
"Marik??" Bakura stared at him, though barely able to see. "My Pharaoh hasn't come to retrieve me..."  
  
"Nope." Marik returned to his horse and tied the Rod to the saddle.  
  
"Where ... is he?" Bakura licked his own blood on his teeth. "Atemu..."  
  
"Oh, he's probably lounging on his silk covered ass up at the palace with some concubine riding his cock." Marik shrugged and walked a few steps closer to Bakura to survey him.  
  
"He is not coming after me? Isn't he worried about where I am?" Bakura's pupils were so small they didn't seem to be there as he stared up, unseeing, at the pink heavens.  
  
"He probably thinks you're dead." Marik offered.  
  
"No..." Bakura said, clearly dismayed. Marik thought he heard him sob half-heartedly. "I thought....he has to care................I was used. I was fucking used. No, no...my beloved...."  
  
Wait. Wait. WAIT. Bakura was in LOVE with the Pharaoh? "What the...FUCK?!" Marik shot him a disgusted look, even though Bakura wasn't paying attention to him.  
  
Marik made sure is belongings were secure in his saddlebags. He was about to climb abroad again, but hesitated when he saw swirling, brown clouds blistering over the sand, not too far away. The wind whipped his hair around his face and the horse whinnied shrilly. "My gods..." Marik muttered.  
  
"There's a sandstorm coming, eh!" Bakura called to him.  
  
"I can see that, you idiot!" Marik impatiently kicked sand at him. He growled and spun around, desperately looking for a shelter, rocks, anything he could dive behind. THERE! His eyes locked onto a group of rocks a short distance away, one of them large enough to protect him from the wind and blowing sand that was stinging as painfully as scorpions. Marik grabbed the reins of his horse and dragged Bakura up by collar of his tunic and hauled them both over to the rock.  
  
"W-what are you doing?" Bakura waved his arms at him. "Let me die! I don't wanna go on without my Pharaoh!"  
  
"SHADDUP!" Marik gave him a shake. "I'm not letting you be killed by some natural disaster; if you're going to die, it's going to be at my hand!" His horse spooked and reared, Marik lost his grip on the reins and she galloped away. "Get back here! Godammit!" Marik could hardly hear himself over the roar of the incoming storm. He threw Bakura down behind the rock and flopped down beside him. He wrapped his ratty cloak around himself; night was falling and he was practically freezing in the harsh wind. Bakura sidled up to him for warmth. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Marik glared down at the silver head.  
  
Bakura looked up at him with simpering eyes. "I don't like storms." He said.  
  
Marik scoffed, "There's nothing to be afraid of-" But when the 200m/h winds hit them and the air turned dark and thick with sand they both latched onto each other and screamed.  
  
"Damn, there goes the horse." Bakura said, muffled in Marik's shoulder, after their screams had died down. He sounded quite amused.  
  
"Shut. Up." Marik gritted out.  
  
The storm didn't last more than half an hour; Bakura passed out from blood loss before it ended. Marik started to feel sleepy and he figured he wasn't going anywhere soon so he pulled up his hood and drifted slowly into sleep.  
  
Marik woke up with sand in his eyes, ears, mouth and every crevice of his body. At first, he thought it was yet night from the large shadow falling over him. He rubbed sand from his eyes and realised the shadow was of a tall, black Arabian stallion standing over him. "What the..." His gaze followed up the finely clothed leg of its rider to his hip, chest and spiky head. "Pharaoh!!" "Tomb guard." Atemu answered lazily. He then turned to the mounted army behind him. "You!" He brandished his sword towards the man on his right. "Fetch the boy and tie him up...We'll be taking him along." He turned and ordered about half of the men to continue on to Marik's pyramid. "Kill both of the other guards and loot the place entirely. Kill anyone who stands in the way or witnesses this." The soldiers kicked their horses on and rode away to follow out their orders.  
  
Marik struggled with the soldier that had been order to bind him. "Get offa me!" Marik kicked him in the jaw and rolled away. The Pharaoh growled at his soldier's incompetence, sliding off his horse, came up behind Marik and banged him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Marik blacked out and fell into the sand. The soldier dragged him by his cloak and tied a rope around Marik's waist and the other end to the back of his saddle.  
  
The Pharaoh casually walked towards Bakura (who is thoroughly almost- dead at this point), crouched and checked his pulse. It was slow and faint, but it was there. The Pharaoh scooped him up in his arms with delicate care and carried him to his horse. He slid him over the saddle and mounted behind him. A soldier helped Bakura into a sitting position; he slumped against Atemu's chest. They set off, towards the Pharaoh's palace.  
  
End of chapter  
  
a/n...oh crap. Sorry people for the HUUUGE delay in getting this up (it's been what almost 5 months...and I said a few days . geez) so thank you very very much for the comments. I love you guys :P Oh yeah I promise there will be smut in the next chapter XD even if it takes half a year to write, I'll get it in there XD 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Warnings: smut, sex, very much OOC, swearing, blood, bondage, rape, that kind of stuff YES THERE IS SEX IN THIS CHAP! HOLY SHIT! IT'S A MIRACLE!!! Pairings: well...duh. You can probably figure that out. But I won't say, just in case I need a little suspense here!! MAJOR WARNING: this chapter is extremely explicit!! So not for kids!!! Okies that's enough warnings! Onward with the fic!  
  
Marik came to, his head pounding hard and his eyes blurry. /Oh gods, I don't know where I am...but my head hurts too much and I don't care. I will just ...go back to sleep...yes.../ Marik suddenly realised his head was cushioned on something very soft, and that he was naked with a silk sheet half covering him. /What the.../  
  
"Ah...Aaaah! Pharaoh! I waited for you...I wanted – aaaaah!! You feel so good..!" Bakura's voice came from a short distance away, sounding strained and slightly higher than normal.  
  
Marik's eyes snapped open at the sound of Bakura's pleasured gasps and cries.  
  
"You know I would never leave you...stranded in the desert..." Atemu's voice also sounded raspy and very strained.  
  
Marik craned his neck to look around the room. He was in, what appeared to be, the Pharaoh's bath camber. It was a huge, rectangular, marble room with pillars standing in the corners. In the centre was a massive bath filled with warm water. Exotic, potted plants and cushions scattered the edges of the bath. A few concubines tittered near the doorway. Marik noted that there were no windows and the door was barred and locked. He tilted his head back and witnessed the Pharaoh in the middle of bringing Bakura to orgasm. Bakura was on his stomach, the Pharaoh kneeling between his knees and Bakura's hips in his hands. Bakura had one hand on the floor near his head and the other on his erection. Atemu thrust hard, one more time, into the platinum blonde. "Atemu!!" Bakura screamed as they both came nearly simultaneously.  
  
"Oh gods..." Marik choked, rolling over. He was sickened to find his own erection. And even more so to feel what was undeniable jealousy. His stomach was nearly in his mouth, and he quickly swallowed the bile, his hand clamped over his lips. He pressed his face into a cushion and tried to reason with himself that he did NOT like what he had just seen.  
  
"Thank you..." Bakura's voice came out dry and wispy as Atemu pulled out of him. He grinned psychotically at the Pharaoh as he laid himself down beside him.  
  
"Ooh, Bakura, it seems as if our little friend is awake." The Pharaoh said in a sing-sing, yet evil voice. "And it looks like he needs a hand." Bakura lazily raised his head to look at Marik struggling with his hard-on and giggled.  
  
Marik sat bolt upright when he heard Atemu. He shot a death glare at the both of them. The Pharaoh laughed under his breath, then slowly stood and strode towards Marik, stark naked. Marik scrambled to stand and determinedly held his gaze to the spiky head. The darker haired one quickly closed the distance between them and Marik hastily backed away from him.  
  
"Aww, Bakura, look! He's confused...And it seems he's become a little aroused, too." The Pharaoh placed his hands on Marik's shoulders, leaned forward and licked the shell of his ear once. Marik shuddered and pushed Atemu away from him. The Pharaoh raised his eyebrows at his daring and gave him the 'Oooh-you're-naughty'look. "I think you need to cool off!" The Pharaoh shoved him backwards and he tripped into the bath.  
  
Marik was shocked, needless to say, to find himself suddenly under water. Floating there, he opened his eyes and squinted through the swarm of bubbles around him. He watched an elegant pair of feet, ankles and legs slide into the water. Slim thighs, an uncircumcised penis and slender hips followed them. Marik jerked and starting swimming in the opposite direction. But the Pharaoh was too fast and grabbed the blonde underneath his arms and hauled him above water. Marik let out a cry of rage and beat his limbs furiously against the dark haired man. "Let go of me!! Let go of me, you corrupt fucker!"  
  
The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed and burned and he threw Marik back down into the water with matched fury. Then he dragged him back up again by the throat. "Don't you ever," He growled through clenched teeth. "Insult your Pharaoh, desert filth." He shoved Marik, with surprising strength, against the wall of the bath. He motioned to the concubines and they immediately rushed forward with long, linen strips in their hands. They efficiently bound Marik's wrists to metal rings in the floor that seemed to have been placed there for this sole purpose. Marik shouted curses at them and struggled against the body pinning him. Atemu leaned close to the other's ear as the concubines skittered off, and he whispered, "Insolent fool," His tongue flicked out once again. "I'll fuck you so hard ...you won't be able to walk for weeks."  
  
The Pharaoh began to part Marik's legs. "NO! NONONO!!" Marik screamed in protest, determinedly clamping his buttocks.  
  
"STOP THAT!" The Pharaoh roared at him, fiercely grinding his hardening erection against the blonde's. Marik involuntarily moaned in response. "See...you like it..." Atemu's tone softened and he continued to rub against Marik, panting into his mouth.  
  
"Stop this..." Marik said feebly. "I'll kill you...I'll kill you for this...mmm oh gods!!" The king pushed Marik's knees violently apart, taking his hips and tilting them forward with a wicked sneer. Not even bothering to stretch Marik with his fingers first, Atemu suddenly thrust his cock to the very hilt inside of him ("Oh, gods...you are so fucking tight!"). Marik opened his mouth in a silent scream. The Pharaoh pound into him again and again; he could feel himself and tearing and bleeding. White explosions of what should of felt like pain were blinding him. But he could not believe how much he was getting off on being raped by his enemy. He was fully aware of his impossibly hard cock rubbing against the Pharaoh's stomach and the water rising to caress his nipples every time the he thrust deeper inside of him. The dark haired one repeatedly hit Marik's prostate gland and his head was lifted into the clouds as delicious tension built in his groin and chest, his eyes rolling back, as an orgasm was building up inside of him. Atemu pushed as hard as he could into Marik, squeezed his eyes shut and silently came inside of him. Marik cried out as he came a few seconds later, Atemu pulling out of him. The Pharaoh drifted away from him and dunked under water. Marik tried to gather what the hell had just happened to him. His entire body was numb, cum and blood mingled in the water around him. The Pharaoh resurfaced, sweeping his hair back. Marik looked away from him, his breathing still hard, and hate and sexual attraction burning in him. The Pharaoh swam towards him and placed a slow, hot kiss on Marik's mouth. The blonde rubbed hungrily against the Pharaoh, still wanting more, but Atemu broke away from him and climbed out of the bath.  
  
Not bothering to dry off, Atemu tied his robes around his waist and flounced off towards the door. He threw it open and yelled for the attention of his royal guards. "Take them to their chamber." He gesticulated towards the bleeding and panting Marik and the snoozing Bakura. Atemu then ordered the concubines to prepare his dinner and sleeping chambers and wandered down the hall, calling for Seth.  
  
The guards rushed forward; a pair of them urging Bakura to his feet and into his clothes and binding his wrists together. The remaining three guards untied Marik's wrists, he immediately slumped forward into the water. They pulled him roughly out of the bath and told him to put his clothes on. The bound his wrists, as well, and ushered them from the room. Marik didn't even put up a fight. 


End file.
